I spent countless hours in a field picking petals off of dead flowers (what a metaphor for our relationship)

saying with each petal squeezed tight between my fingertips
he loves me, he loves me,
he loves me.

you loved me not.

you are more toxic than carbon monoxide and I made a home out of you (I guess you were a car left on in a closed garage)

you were a death wish,
and I knew every time I went back to you it would be the same as last time

so why did I do it?

I fell in love with the musician that wrote a song about my eyes when we only knew each other for a month.

I fell in love with the warm heart and cool menthol voice that called me at noon when I was in North Carolina, and that was the first time I ever heard your voice.

I fell in love with the big arms that hugged me in the cold and rain for the first time, after talking on the phone for a month.

I fell in love with the mouth that tasted like marlboro southern cut cigarettes and the lips that were always cold.

I fell in love with the warm brown eyes that glistened in the sun even behind ray-ban sunglasses.

I fell in love with the teeth that formed the most perfect smile when I told my cheesy lame jokes and the deep, throaty laugh that followed.

I fell in love with the N_ O'__ whom my mom loved (for a brief time) and bought me roses on my birthday.


I was in love with what you were and I was hoping that it would come back.


I know now that it's not.

I hope it breaks your heart the way that you broke mine
knowing that I am
always
going to be above you.

I hope your world falls apart much like my mind did
every time
you hear my name.

you are the aftertaste of coffee.
after the jumpstart,
the palpitation,
here you are,
sadly bittersweet.

you are the persisting vision
of a falling star.
its trail of light
remain before me
even after it’s long been gone.
i’ve tried to catch it
with my feeble hands,
only to grasp nothingness.

you are the aftermath
of an earthquake,
of which i found myself
at its epicenter.
even after rebuilding,
i found
that nothing is
as it was.

you are the tune
that keeps playing
over and over again
inside my head.
i’ve being lss-ing
over your memories,
singing a song
i’m not sure
if i’ll ever hear again.

you are an aftertaste,
a persisting vision,
an aftermath,
an lss
that i wrap around myself,
holding me together,
keeping me from falling apart.

for j.e.
*100314

Your voice no longer sounded like a sweet melody but more like nails on a chalkboard

I am losing my way
I never never thought I would stray
from my little written path
only to face the aftermath

So many decisions to make
Infinite paths to take
I need out of this place
Losing myself to save face

I need help
but I have forgotten how to ask

Before I met you, I was a hurricane of a girl.

I was full of burning hot lava and made up of not just star dust but meteor showers.

I was the moon and the sun and every type of sky in between, the purple and blue of a whirlwind storm and the orange-pink hues of a tired day.

I could create waves as high as the boats that sailed my waters, then calm them just before they sank.

I could put every ******* natural disaster to shame with the power I held inside of my gut and my heart and my soul.

Now, I am the aftermath. I am the battered towns and the sunken dirt.

I am the cloudy night that conceals the evening lights and the defeated sea that seems to submerge into itself under the weight of the sinking sky.

I am composed of the residue of every catastrophe you have thrown my way, but underneath the rubble is the same girl from before, alive and whole and full of every great storm and tsunami tide the world has ever seen.

Start digging.